Webs
by Cinore
Summary: Edward is 27 now, but this afternoon, he appears far older. He is dressed sharply, but as he stands over his young brother's grave, his eyes are dark and his breath is shallow. PostManga, AU, Dark, EdWin
1. prologue

**Webs**  
>by Cinore<p>

**Disclaimer:**  
>Full Metal Alchemist is not mine, but Hiromu Akagawa's.<p>

**A/N:**  
>Credit should be given where it is due; the story was originally inspired by S J Smith's fantastic story, Devotion.<p>

The "base point" of this story is placed 7 years after Alphonse Elric's death: the prologue. Time references at the beginning of each chapter should be assumed relative to that point. (For example, Chapter 1 is - 2 years, 4 months, which would make it 4 years, 8 months after Al's death.)

This tale is set post-manga, but in an alternate reality. In the manga, the end sorts itself out very nicely. There are no problems with anyone; everyone lives happily ever after. This story assumes that there are many more problems afterwards.

Enjoy. Reviews are always appreciated. :)

* * *

><p><strong>PROLOGUE<br>**_(They share one day a year.)_

It's been at least a decade since either of them have lived in the decadent village they once called home, but they faithfully reconvene once a year now, unwilling and unable to let their pasts slip away.

It's been seven years since his death, but his presence hangs darkly over them as they hover over his grave, each one quietly shuffling through their memories of him. Too much time has passed his death, and so each memory has become warped from years of reminiscing and mourning.

Edward is 27 now, but this afternoon, he appears far older. He is dressed sharply, but as he stands over his young brother's grave, his eyes are dark and his breath is shallow. There's a bouquet of carnations in his hand, and he clutches the stems tightly as he stares dully at the inscriptions on the grave:

_Alphonse Elric_  
><em>1904 - 1922<em>  
><em> Loving Brother<em>  
><em>Talented Alchemist<em>  
><em>Heart for Life.<em>

He crouches down to string the carnations across his grave, running his metal fingers across the worn engraving as he does so. For a split second, he feels a strange otherworldy connection with his late brother. Then, the feeling passes, and he's alone again. Dusting his pants as he rises, he says flatly to the woman standing next to him, "Seven years."

"Yes, it's been long," she responds with a matching lack of fervor, knowing well that she has added nothing new to the conversation. And then the automail mechanic falls silent.

Her long blond locks twist elegantly in the gentle breeze, creating a web that catches her silent tears as they trickle down her cheeks. She isn't even sure why she cries anymore - it's been years since she's made her peace with Al's death - but still the tears come, without fail, year after year. They flow freely for a few moments, then she uses the sleeve of her coat to wipe them away.

Winry, 27, is a woman now, with a future of family and career to look forward to. The awkwardness of her teenage years finally gone, she moves with a certain, beautiful grace. With one sweeping movement, she removes her lilies from their plastic wrap and places them on Al's tombstone beside the carnations. A few of the stray petals are swept by the wind and are caught in her hair. And then she is crouching, her eyes level with his name of the tombstone, and she whispers to the cement slab as if it is the embodiment of Alphonse.

"I still think about you, Al. I'll never forget all the joy you brought." She pauses, then smiles half-heartedly. "I'll try not to cry anymore."

It appears as if she is finished, but she suddenly removes a pretty little ring from her ring finger and places it in the palm of her hand, as if the tombstone had Al's eyes. "Look, it's an engagement ring. I told you about Martin last year, right? We're engaged now."

The next words come out in a strained whisper. "I know you always hoped that things would work out for your brother and me. I'm sorry it never did... But... I'm happy now, so... Please, be happy for me regardless."

She finally stands now and steps away from the tombstone so that Ed can have his turn. Without missing a beat, he steps forward and crouches in front of it. A deep sigh leaves his lips and the dissolved Edward looks about the field for a few seconds before speaking.

"I know I said I'd never be a dog of the military again, Al," he begins quietly, his words barely leaving his lips before being swept away by the breeze, "but Commander Mustang invited me personally back into the State Alchemist Union, and the situations are different now."

"...So I accepted his offer a few months back, but I'm working entirely on my own terms. So please don't think too badly of your older brother."

An indignant chuckle. "And I wish I had a nice love story like Winry's to share. But it's the same as it's been for the past few years now. I wish I could tell you things have changed."

"...But I wish a lot of things." He pauses now, to cover a part of his face with his gloved hand. "...I now know better than to act on these wishes, though..." His voice breaks, and for a few seconds, Ed is an 8 year-old boy again, living on the hope of an unlikely resurrection.

He is older and smarter now, and so he knows well that his desires are nothing but dreams.

The pair finishes paying their respects to Al, then they hug briefly and part ways. Ed has a train to Central to catch and Winry wants to talk to the villagers before parting. They avoid saying unnecessary things like, "We should meet up sometime," or "See you soon," or even, "I missed you". Today, they are naught but two acquaintances with a very close, mutual friend.

It shouldn't have been this way.


	2. 2 years, 4 months earlier

**A/N:** Thank you so much for the reviews/alerts/favorites! :) Hope this next chapter is satisfying as well.  
>Just so you understand how the timeline works, this happens 2 years, 4 months before the prologue.<p>

**CHAPTER 1:**  
>-2 YEARS 4 MONTHS<br>_(They have unchanging routines.)_

"His name is Martin," Winry chirps into a phone receiver, "and he's a Doctor. And really, he must be the smoothest doctor I ever met. I went in for a routine checkup, and left with a dinner date at that new restaurant down the street."

The automail mechanic stands alone behind a counter, blond hair tied back in a messy bun, cleaning off her workstation with one hand while grasping a phone with the other. She giggles into the phone before adding, "Yes, Rebecca, he _is_ handsome."

More giggling. "No, I don't want this to turn out like Richard. As much as I enjoyed the two months of endless 'passion', I think my crotch would appreciate the break."

The conversation continues like this for another hour; the girls talk about their hopes for Martin - he is almost the smartest man Winry has ever dated - and previous boyfriends and lovers that had never quite fit the bill. They dream and they fantasize that the perfect man will come along some day: handsome, smart, witty, respectful, sexy, and charming.

And then a patron enters and Winry stops dreaming long enough to adjust a man's automail for the coming summer, replacing some of the joints with parts that have a higher heat capacity. When he leaves, a long 90 minutes later, the lone mechanic closes the shop and goes shopping for something to wear on her date. It's a black tie restaurant, so nothing in her current wardrobe will work; even as a gorgeous, 25-year old woman, the mechanic only owns a handful of feminine clothing that she hasn't outgrown.

Perhaps it is because Winry is a woman possessed by her work; even as she is purchasing a pretty little dress from that overpriced boutique she always avoided, she is thinking about her work. Schematics sketch themselves in her head as she heads back to her shop, and as soon as she is back in those doors, she is transcribing her dreams to paper. Her fingers move so quickly that she is _burning_ graphite trails onto the sheets of paper. She breaks her train of thought only to attend to another patron for a few hours, but as soon as he leaves, she is back to thinking, to planning, to creating.

Winry works until the sky bleeds with the reds and yellows of dawn, then collapses onto a workbench. Sweet sleep comes for a short four hours, then she returns to her automail work. It never ends.

* * *

><p>Laughing uproariously, Edward slams a shotglass onto a wooden table and barks, "That's five! How many did you drink? ...Don't bore me already!"<p>

It's 3 AM, and the former State Alchemist is sitting across the table from a brutish man that is easily twice his size. A small crowd has formed around them, urging the drinkers on with their cheers and jeers. A young, scantily clad lady wraps her arms around Edward as he pours his opponent his fifth shot. The concoction is some poisonous mix of Vodka and Godknowswhat that tastes like Sin, but does a beautiful job intoxicating the crowd. The room is already spinning for him as he takes ahold of his sixth shot, holds it up in the air for the onlookers to cheer, and gulps down the liquor in one violent movement.

For the next few hours, everything is a drunken haze. Ed gets into a fight with another regular at the bar, but the match ends prematurely when the other brawler is knocked unconscious by the burly bartender. A number of desperate but voluptuous girls flirt with him throughout the night, and he finally takes the most scrumptious one back to his apartment, where he _can't remember._..

By the next day she is gone along with a few coins from Ed's wallet, though he'll never know it. It's far too early for him to be moving around, but he has a lunch appointment with an old colleague that he feels obliged to attend. He fixes himself a quick hangover remedy that he's learned from years of being on the scene, takes a quick shower, and stumbles out of his rathole.

His longtime colleague is waiting at a nice restaurant downtown; it's the type of establishment Ed would never enter on his own. But because Roy Mustang is treating and because it is dimly lit inside, he does not protest _this_ time. He ducks into the restaurant and before one server has the chance to chastise him out for his casual attire, another one remembers that Ed is Commander Mustang's special guest. The two lead the famished, hung-over Edward to the former Colonel's private booth.

Roy Mustang does not scold Edward for being late to their meeting - he must've expected it, for he had a light novel with him - and instead calls a server over and orders quickly for the both of them. The guest chugs down his ice water as Mustang remarks, "Up late last night?"

"Maybe something like that," Edward responds dryly, realizing that he doesn't truly know the answer himself.

"I knew it was a good idea to choose a restaurant with little light."

So the Commander had predicted Edward's train of thought. "...Bastard."

"I would've ordered a drink for you, Elric, but I didn't think it was a good idea. Unless you still want that morning-after Bloody Mary."

"Don't you dare test me, _Commander_. I can only be civil for so long."

With a scoff, Mustang begins a monologue on his plans for the future of Amestris. Their meeting is far from a lunch between business associates, however; in fact, Roy is venting more than anything else.

No, Edward isn't part of the military anymore, and doesn't intend to join it ever again. As a result, Roy is vague; he dances around details, only providing his meal companion with state lines for information and filling the silence with humorous anecdotes. And although Ed seems too intent on finishing his pasta to be listening to the Commander properly, Roy knows the young man is quietly calculating as he eats, dissecting every spoken word until they are tangible fragments of the truth.

By the time lunch has ended, Edward has barely spoken, but leaves content. A free meal and a wealth of information; Mustang was always good with codes.

And Edward was always good at cracking them.


	3. 8 years, 1 month earlier pt1

**A/N:** My delay in submitting this chapter can only be described as neglect and schoolwork. But I'm still more excited than anyone else to see exactly where this story will go... So I still want to finish it.  
>I think I'm a bit rusty from not writing for so long, but hopefully this is alright. Enjoy!<p>

**CHAPTER 2:**  
>- 8 YEARS 1 MONTH<br>_(They miss one another dearly.)_

After 38 days of being held and questioned by a military counsel, Edward Elric is released from his holding cell at the Military Headquarters in Central. Disoriented by lack of food, rest, and fresh air, he travels but a few blocks from the headquarters when his legs give out and he collapses on the sidewalk.

When he comes to, he is in Riza Hawkeye's apartment, and he is resting in her bed. The alluring smell of chicken wafts into the bedroom from the kitchen, and the famished teenager finds himself crawling towards the dining room table for a chance at some scraps. While the food is surprisingly well-done (who would've guessed that the Lieutenant could cook?), Edward is reticent throughout the meal; he is lost in a vortex of his own thoughts that is interrupted rudely by a strong, feminine voice.

"I suppose you want to go see your brother," Riza says gently, as if she is speaking with a child.

Edward would like to consider himself a man now, but lately he feels no older than 12, naive and weak. "Yes..." He responds meekly, avoiding the gunner's steady gaze.

"You know that you can't see him, don't you?" Again, gently.

He is clearly uncomfortable with her uncharacteristic kindness. "I think I may have been told something to that effect."

The lieutenant chuckles softly. "I'm not your mother; you don't have to wait for me to sleep to sneak out of my apartment. If you're planning to break into headquarters, I won't stop you."

His golden eyes widen in alarm, and he turns to look at her; she is smiling as she feeds Black Hayate, her pet pup. "You might want to do it before Colonel Mustang finds out you've already left the Military Headquarters. I'm sure it'll be all over the paper tomorrow. He might try to run out his holding cell to stop you from doing anything reckless."

"Why aren't you stopping me?" He enunciates slowly, cautiously.

A careless shrug. "Why would I?"

It is almost 2AM when Edward leaves the solace of Riza's apartment and disappears into the black tendrils of night. The irony that he is returning to the very place from where he was released is not lost on him. But at this point in time, he has no other choice.

He is inside the building in all of twenty minutes; the military sentries are rendered useless in his presence. They are apprehended within seconds, and then Ed is making his way through labyrinthine passageways to the isolation chamber where his brother is being held.

It is not the first time that Ed has broken into a facility that he was forbidden to enter, but he cannot stop his hands from shaking as he gropes through the dimly lit hallway. And then he hears them.

There are two sentries posted in front of the room where Al has been kept for over a month now, quietly conversing in hushed tones.

"The one we're looking out for is Edward Elric, right?"

"Yeah, they think he's going to break in soon. He was released today, and cleared of all charges."

"The Full Metal Alchemist should know better than to break him out." Darkly.

"How d'ya figure?"

"The boy's completely disabled. He can barely do anything as it is... How's the older brother planning to take care of him?" Genuine concern.

Lazy shrug. "Dunno."

Even two years ago, Edward Elric was a man of action before he was a man of thought. But rough circumstances have doused his recklessness. He clenches his fists in the darkness, desperately wanting to see his younger brother, but he is also afraid to interfere with his recuperation.

Frustrated, Ed punches the stone wall with his fist, alarming the two sentries. As they start pacing around the corridors, Ed quietly exits the building and disappears into the night.

_'Winry… I want to see Winry…'_

Images of his childhood friend run through his mind, and now he wishes that he had told her to wait for him in Central instead of in Risembool. If he had known that things would have turned out this way, he would have acted differently. He imagines what it would be like to just go back home with Al right now, to give Winry the fierce hug he wanted to give her a month ago when he called her from his holding cell.

_'Dammit…'_

* * *

><p>It has already been two weeks since Winry has packed up her Automail practice in Rush Valley and returned to Risembool. Her move was prompted by a breathless phonecall in the middle of the night from the only boy that would dare to call her so late.<p>

_"Winry, we're coming home."_

That phone call was a month ago, and she hasn't heard from either of the brothers since. The daily newspaper is the only thing that keeps her from a certain insanity. The headlines give her absolutely no peace, because there is no peace in today's Amestris.

After discovering just how high the conspiracy to overthrow the government was, the former puppet government reacted by electing a temporary military counsel to interrogate every military officer with a ranking of Major or higher.

This does not explain, to Winry or to anyone else, why Edward Elric has yet to be released from questioning. It makes her incredibly nervous, but makes her grandmother only angry.

_"Like hell, the boy was involved in some conspiracy theory! All he ever tried to do was to get his body back!"_

It is 7:30 in the morning now, time to wash up and eat before hitting her workshop. Winry pours herself a cup of coffee and goes outside to fetch the morning paper. She catches a glimpse of the headline and almost spits out her coffee.

**Former State Alchemist, Edward Elric, Released from Military Custody After Being Declared Innocent**

The headline alone is enough to prompt a batch of tears. Not tears of sadness. No, not that, never. Tears of utter relief.

"Ed," she breathes as she stares at a black and white photograph of the alchemist exiting the Military headquarters, "Are you finished? Can... can you come home now?


	4. 8 years, 1 month earlier pt2

**A/N:** The events of this chapter happen directly after the previous chapter.  
>Don't just story alert me... Review the story! I want to know what you like.<p>

**CHAPTER 3:  
><strong>- 8 YEARS 1 MONTH  
><em>(There's still too much excitement in their lives.)<em>

The day after Ed is released from military custody, Colonel Roy Mustang contacts the former Full Metal Alchemist through an unexpected flower delivery. A simple white card in the bouquet reads, "Congratulations on your release." On the back of the card, etched neatly into the paper as if part of a barcode, are a series of numbers that Ed quickly decodes.

_'Today. Pub 18. 9 pm.'_

Later that night, garbed in a simple black coat and cap as to not attract any unwanted attention, he makes his way to the popular pub. As soon as he enters, a large man gestures him quietly to a side door. It leads a large cellar stocked with an impressive breadth of alcohol.

Ed smirks as his eyes rest on Roy Mustang seated at a wooden table in the center of the cellar. There is a single lightbulb hanging above the table, casting a dramatic shadow on Roy Mustang's hardened face. "I'm not so sure I want to be in this alcohol-filled room with a pyromaniac..."

The Flame Alchemist rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "We're not here for your banter, boy. We're going to skip the formalities here, because your fun time isn't over yet."

"Killed a God, saved the country, restored my brother's body, I'd say I'm done here, Colonel," he retorts without skipping a beat as he takes a seat across from Mustang.

"Glad to see you're humble, pipsqueak. But as far as we're concerned, as long as you can't perform alchemy, you're only half the fighter you used to be. Not to mention you're no longer a dog of the military. That makes you pretty damn useless."

Ed chuckles softly. "Is that so? Well, I want to be useless. I'm done. I just need to tie up a few loose ends, and then I'll be back home. ...For good."

There is a quiet lull where the two men's eyes meet and Mustang knows Ed is not bluffing. Edward has never been known for tempering his passion and determination. It has always been something of a speciality of Roy's, but out of a necessity to keep his name away from the interest of men who could make his life a living hell.

"I can help you tie up some loose ends." He then gestures at Breda, who has been standing in the shadows all this time. Breda pulls a folder out of his coat and places the contents before the Elric brother in a neat fashion.

The photographs and files stop Ed's blood cold. His vision starts shaking _as his brain begins to process _-

"How... _Where did you get these files on Al?"_

Medical records. Official photographs. Everything that they denied Ed during the military tribunal. The reason Ed hadn't spoken a word for nearly three weeks before they began starving him so that he would talk.

Al. Connected on a million machines.  
>Al. Breathing through a tube.<br>Al. Looking ten years younger than he should. Tiny, frail.  
>Al. Surrounded by doctors Ed has never seen before.<p>

"We stole them," Roy says quietly, but firmly, "Because nobody knows for sure what is going on with your brother, but we should." He suddenly stands and stretches his hand over the files and photographs to get Ed's attention.

"We're going to make a trade. You work for me in the shadows, as a civilian, and I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to get your brother back to you. Because right now they don't have any intention of doing so."

Ed's eyes wanders back and forth from the records to Mustang's eyes. "Don't make me regret this, _Colonel,"_ he growls as he stands. Then firmly grasps Mustang's outstretched hand with his own. "This is one promise you keep to your grave."

* * *

><p><em>"Winry, I can't come home yet."<em>

"What? Ed... What are you talking about? What's going on? What's going on with Al?"

_"Look. I can't tell you the details right now. But they don't have any plans of releasing Al. I need to stay here for a bit. It's complicated." _

The line is quiet and Ed can tell that Winry is crying. Or at least holding back tears.

_"Winry... Don't-"_

"I'M NOT CRYING!"

Silence.

"Ed, are you getting into danger again?"

_"I don't know."_

"Can you even fight like you used to without alchemy?"

_"...I don't know."_

"...Can you really get Al back?"

_"I will. The bastard promised."_

Silence again. Winry is playing with the cord as her mind races at a million miles per hour.

"Ed, can you keep me safe?" She says quietly, the harsh tone in her voice suddenly gone.

_"What? Of course I can."_

"Okay. I'm going to Central."

"_What?"_

"I've been waiting here worried sick without a single word from you, Ed! I'm going to meet you in Central. As your mechanic and your friend, I need to be there."

"_WINRY! It's not going to be safe!_"

"You JUST said you could keep me safe, Edward Elric! Meet me tomorrow at the station at 2PM! No arguments!"

"I don't even know what I'm getting into right now, Winry! If you come here, they could use you against me!"

"I don't care, Ed. I need to be there. I..." Her voice hitches. "I need to see you."

This time, Ed is the one who is silent. _"Fine," _He finally says after a long lull. _"I'll keep you safe."_


End file.
